And Oskar goes to Lausanne

Oskar hails from a kennel named Lakeview Labradors and truly lives up to his name on the shores of Lake Geneva. When his owners are busy, the concierge at the Beau-Rivage Palace takes him for a walk in the park.

Can dogs go to heaven? Do cats also live there? And what is there to eat? These questions are not so easy to answer theologically. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that animals can hope for eternal life. But the prophet Isaiah describes heaven (chapter 11, verses 6-8) as follows: ‘The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze; their young ones shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.’ So there is reason to believe that there are also a number of animals hanging around in heaven.

I am sure that my dog Oskar is a believer. His religion is eating. The kitchen is his church, the fridge his altar. He spends many hours lying in front of this shiny silver shrine and worships it with folded paws. Twice a day, at 8 a.m. and 6 p.m., a two-legged priest (sometimes even a priestess) enters the kitchen and celebrates the dog’s high mass. Whether it’s dry food, bread, carrot peel, cheese rind, apple cores or fish skin, Oskar eagerly accepts anything edible from his master’s hand. Sometimes he prays quietly for extra meals – I can hear it in his quiet grumbling.

Unfortunately, Oskar can’t talk, but I can tell from the noises he makes and his actions that he is more than just an eating machine. He feels, senses, thinks and dreams, so he has some sort of psyche. According to Catholic theology, however, animals do not have a soul, which contrasts with the beliefs of Buddhism and Islam. The derogatory attitude towards animals is characterised by the Old Testament, which states: ‘Fill the earth and subdue it! Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and every creature that moves on the ground.’ Most animal lovers, whether Christian or not, would agree that their beloved dogs and even reptiles have a soul that continues to exist in some way after they have died. Whether or not there is a rainbow bridge and separate heavens for cats, dogs and squirrels is probably a matter of interpretation.

When we arrive at the Beau-Rivage Palace Hotel in Lausanne, Oskar and I have the feeling that we have accidentally stepped into dog heaven. The staircase to the lobby is flanked by two black dog sculptures. The magnificent building with its 138 rooms and suites sits on the shores of Lake Geneva, is surrounded by a park with tall, old trees and belongs to the super luxury category, which is one step up from a five-star luxury hotel. A dog sofa and a highly polished bowl are waiting in the room, next to these is a bag of dog treats that Oskar wants to devour immediately, packaging and all. However, the eating ritual will have to wait, as a tour of the park is the first item on the agenda.

On the parade ground, Oskar is allowed on the carpet in the luxuriously furnished room, but not on the bed or sofa.

On the way to the Café Beau-Rivage, an elegant brasserie on the ground floor of the hotel, you will walk past a wall of fame with photos and guestbook entries from prominent visitors such as Alain Delon, the Dalai Lama, Diana Ross, Elton John, Ginger Rogers, Woody Allen and Nelson Mandela. Charlie Chaplin spent his first night in Switzerland here with his wife Oona when the couple moved to Switzerland in 1952. Author Georges Simenon described the Beau-Rivage in the guest book as a place ‘where everything is done to make you feel at home’.

Oskar feels almost better than he does at home, because at home he doesn’t have a sophisticated divan to sleep on; instead, his place is usually a mat in the hallway. And he is not normally allowed to go to fancy restaurants where his master is served delicacies such as fried perch fillets, tenderloin beef and chocolate mousse. In the brasserie, the dog sits next to the table, staring at the spotless white tablecloth, and can hardly control himself, salivating at the thought of food. However, one of ten Labrador commandments is: You must not steal anything from the table! Oskar frequently breaks this rule.

At the next table, a waitress and a waiter serve a fried char on a silver platter. They carve the fish professionally and ritualistically. Oskar looks devout, as if he is attending a religious ritual. Could he not at least steal the fish skin or the head? Begone, Satan! A little while later, the waiter places a plate of tartare in front of a guest, who nods with emotion. Oskar’s eyes are a silent prayer: Please, please, dear dog god, make the plate fall off the table by mistake! Two tigers gaze peacefully from a huge painting on the opposite wall. Yes, it would be dog heaven if Oskar were allowed to order anything he wanted from the menu. If a lion will one day eat straw like an ox, why shouldn’t a Labrador one day eat beef tartare like a man, to quote the prophet Isaiah? Goodbye and amen.